


dear moon

by evelyn_hayes



Series: Klance Ficlets [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Depression, Established Relationship, I wrote this to get a grip on my own emotions so sorry if i got anything wrong, Keith is trying so hard, M/M, Sad Ending, so is lance but he's just really having a hard time, sorta?, super blue blood moon, yeah that's better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelyn_hayes/pseuds/evelyn_hayes
Summary: It’s not that Lance doesn’t love Keith. He does. He loves how Keith is there to remind him that he’s worth a damn, picks him up when he falls, wakes him up with gentle kisses to his back. But something’s missing, like everything has been in his life for the past year, ever since his mother died. Everything’s lost its colour, black and white look the same faded grey to him. There’s no contrast, no saturation. Just the world, spinning along.Lance feels empty. And he knows Keith is trying to fill the void.





	dear moon

**Author's Note:**

> you: CAN YOU WRITE A SEQUEL FOR GHOST  
> me: *writes this instead*
> 
> That was a joke. I do have a sequel in mind. Sorta. Ish. Not really? Look. It's confusing. So just take this thing while you wait for it :)
> 
> I haven't been feeling the best lately. I wrote this to get a grip on myself, sort out my thoughts. I doubt this is an accurate depiction of depression, and I'm sorry for that. 
> 
> This is angsty but it's a different type of angsty than Ghost. Ghost was all missed chances, things left unsaid, etc. This one's definitely more real and it might leave you feeling a bit empty (if i wrote it that well, idk, this is a mess of a story).
> 
> Enjoy! (And you know. Have a box for kleenex next to you.)

**dear moon**

  
  


He wakes up to soft kisses pressed against his back. 

 

Lance relaxes into the touch, trying to find comfort in it. He does, but it’s not like before. He looks up, checks the time. 

 

_ 9:13. _

 

Lance closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to wake up. He’s scared this is a dream. 

 

“Lance.” Keith’s voice is raspy, quiet, conspiratory. The voice that used to get Lance excited, sparks travelling up his spine. Everything’s faded now. “The moon’s up.”

 

His eyes blink open. The super blue blood moon. That’s tonight. 

 

A thrill rises from his desaturated heart, brings back colour. Lance jerks up, tripping on the blankets as he tries to stand up. Keith catches him, a supporting hand on his back and amused smile on his face. Lance thanks him like he would thank anyone else. Keith’s smile falls.

 

It’s not that Lance doesn’t love Keith. He does. He loves how Keith is there to remind him that he’s worth a damn, picks him up when he falls, wakes him up with gentle kisses to his back. But something’s missing, like everything has been in his life for the past year, ever since his mother died. Everything’s lost its colour, black and white look the same faded grey to him. There’s no contrast, no saturation. Just the world, spinning along. 

 

Lance feels empty. And he knows Keith is trying to fill the void. 

 

He untangles himself from the blankets. He walks over to his balcony, opening the beranda doors and slipping on a robe to protect himself from the cold. Keith is right by his side. 

 

Lance looks up at the moon.

 

Colour bursts before his eyes. He sees the deep blue of the sky, the mustard yellow of the super blue blood moon, the silver of the railing, the blacks of the shadowy New York buildings, the bright colours of the billboards, the lights from the thousands of cars racing through New York-- _ everything _ gains colour. 

 

It lasts a moment. But it’s the most happy Lance has been in a long time.

 

Lance turns to Keith. His bed hair accentuates the sharp angles of his face, especially in the moonlight; but that’s not what catches Lance. His eyes scream with defeat, lips slightly open in realization. 

 

Lance wants to say sorry. He wants to say sorry for not being enough for Keith, beautiful Keith, who gives without thought of his own needs. Sorry that being with Keith doesn’t give him the thrills the moon is giving him. Sorry that Lance can’t give to Keith what Keith has given to him. Sorry that Lance is in patches, and pulling Keith down with it. 

 

Keith swallows. “How long until this falls apart?”

 

Lance can’t answer the question. Because he knows the goddamn answer. 

 

Keith nods, curt, sourly. He turns his face back to the moon. 

 

“Hey,” and then he pulls Keith into a hug. It’s nothing compared to what Keith has given him, but it’s what Keith needs now, and since they don’t have much time left, Lance wants to give what he could to Keith. And what he can give is comfort. He lets Keith grip at his shirt, dig his face into the crook of Lance’s neck, lets him cry for the sacrifices he made, now wasted. This is Lance’s fault. He can’t solve it, but he can own up to it.

 

Tears well up in his eyes as he thinks back on the clock, ticking steadily to the end of this part of his life. Sorry, he whispers into Keith’s hair. Sorry, he cries into the kisses he presses onto every inch of Keith he can reach. Sorry, he pleads, to Keith’s heart. 

 

Lance wishes that they can have a do-over. But they can’t. Keith has given chance and chance again for Lance to take his hand, start again with a blank slate. Time and time again, Lance has refused. And now, like a goddamn idiot, he’s crying because of the pain his own choice has given him. 

 

So he prays to the moon.  _ Dear Moon _ , he starts,  _ let me save him. Let me start again, let me be a better person. If I can’t start again, let me learn from this, let me understand that I can’t lose hold on the people close to me. Let this never happen again. Please. I need this. Keith needs this. Tell me that everything will be okay. _

 

The Moon doesn’t reply. 

 

Lance closes his eyes and drops his forehead on Keith’s.

 

_________

 

The next morning, Keith is gone. Lance knows he won’t come back. 

 

He remembers the soft kisses. He feels their ghost on his skin. He feels Keith’s tears caught by the fabric of his robe. 

 

There’s a burn behind his eyelid. Lance tries to blink it away. He fails.

 

He reaches for the phone on his nightstand, then calls Keith. He doesn’t expect an answer. That’s okay. Keith just needs to hear what Lance has to say.

 

Keith needs to hear the apology he’s deserved for quite some time.

 

The ringing stops. The lady tells him to leave a voicemail.

 

“Hey Keith. I…” Lance bites his lips. Formulates his words, tries to find a phrasing for all his thoughts. 

 

He can’t. 

 

The phone drops onto the blankets. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Calling people is so hard. Especially if you gotta say something super important. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr! thefanfreakwithapencil.tumblr.com  
> Insta: @thefanfreakwithapencil


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